


100 m

by DivinusQualia



Category: Swimming RPF
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Gen, Love Triangles, M/M, Rough Sex, Running, Sexual Confusion, Swearing, Swimming, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-15
Updated: 2013-03-17
Packaged: 2017-11-29 08:46:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/685063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DivinusQualia/pseuds/DivinusQualia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The best swimmers of all time end up in a NYC club, when Wren's party crazed friends pull her away from studying to the same club. In the dark of the club, Wren meets MP and they have a one-night stand?!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

University. It was fucking wild. 

Ryan, Cullen, and Matt walked ahead of Michael and their tall, athletic builds didn't go unnoticed. Girls whispered amongst themselves, making sultry bedroom eyes and naughty smiles, hiking up their already tiny skirts. Ryan-of course-loved it. Cullen and Matt were slightly tamer, but Mike knew he was definitely the shy one. By the time he had found a seat in the dark club with Cullen and Matt, they had been recognized and Ryan was basking in the adoration of 50 girls. Mike snorted, Ryan was gonna catch something one of these days. Cullen went to the bar and returned with beer and a group of fans. Mike downed half of his in a gulp. Why the hell had he let Ryan talk him to this 'retirement vacation'? Why didn't they go to Vegas? A memory jumped to the front of his mind. Oh. That's why. But how the fuck was New York City any better? Ryan was sucked into a mosh pit of grinding girls with a gigantic smile on his face, Cullen was in conversation with a fan-male-about swimming technique, and Matt was inviting a trio of girls to sit. Wait, what?

The girl he was talking to giggled alot. She had waist length golden blonde hair held back with a leather string around her forehead and huge brown eyes. Hippie came to mind when Mike saw her long flowing skirt and tank top. She was followed by a super tanned Asian girl, wearing typical clubbing clothes: short black mini, hot pink halter top, white high heels, and a white handbag hanging off her elbow. As she got closer, Mike realized she wasn't super tanned-just half black. She was pulling a bored looking black girl in black jeans and a navy blue Aero t-shirt. She had cynical brown eyes and a unhappy tilt to her lips. Moderately pretty. The girls and Matt reached the table, the blonde hippie's hand firmly tucked in Matt's, the graceful Asian girl captured Cullen's attention, and the black girl sat down beside him, no hint of a smile on her face. She flashed Michael a glare from the corner of her eye. Michael gulped. 

"Hi. I'm Michael Phelps." She extended a hand.  
"Wren Kassy." A moment passed.  
"Go to alot of clubs?" Wren scowled.  
"No. My friends dragged me away from my assignment." Mike gave a weak smile.  
"Oh, I know all about annoying friends. I've got Cullen, Matt, and fucking Ryan Lochte." He tilted his head in Ryan's direction, and Wren showed a hint of a smile.  
"Well, I've got a Nicole and a Lauren. They major in parties. I major in studying." Mike nodded and resorted to his late ditch conversation.  
"Play any sports? I swim." She gave him an incredulous smirk.  
"Yeah. I know. I think the whole world knows." Mike hailed a barmaid.  
"One beer, please. And a..." Wren looked up.  
"Sprite." Mike nodded.  
"And a Sprite. Thanks." the barmaid walked away and Wren looked at her hands.  
"I run. Middle distances." Mike smiled at her, this strange studious looking girl who ran and ordered a Sprite.  
"Cool."

After 5 minutes of talking, and managing to convince Wren to just try something alcoholic, she downed a shot of tequila and drank 2 rum and cokes. Apparently, this made her want to dance. She tugged Mike along, who was strangely enjoying himself in a crowd, a place he usually despised. Wren set them in the middle of the floor to some wild thumping music, full of bass, and turned her back to his chest. She moved she body around his, hands up, always keeping their bodies touching. Micheal found his hands running down her sides and holding her closer and tighter until all she could do was wiggle against him. How long had it been since he'd... Too fucking long. He found his fingers raking over her chest and tangled in her hair. She stopped him.  
"Not here..."

 

*Wren lead America's golden fish boy to the club bathroom. What the hell was she doing? She didn't know, or care. All she knew was she cared about having Michael fucking Phelps inside of her in the next 2 seconds or else she was gonna die. They reached the bathroom, Mike still trailing his long fingers over her body, heading into a dingy stall painted a putrid green. Wren gave a dopey smile. Who cares? Once the stall door shut, Mike shoved her against the wall, her back almost hitting the toilet's upper tank. She sat on the tank, her feet on the closed lid, as Mike shoved his tongue down her throat. Wren's quick fingers found his belt and undid it, pulling his jeans down and wrapping her hand around his solid length. Michael moaned into her mouth and Wren panted. It smells like cheap perfume, old vomit, stale piss, and... Chlorine? Fucking fish spent too much time in the pool. Wren sucked on Mike's neck when he pulled away, enjoying the sharp taste of sweat permanently flavored with chlorine, still pulling on his now throbbing dick with a dot of precum forming on the head. He was tugging a tiny foil packet out of his wallet. Of course he knew he was getting laid tonight, he was Micheal Phelps. Wren moaned and thrust her hips forward, conveying her need to Michael. His hands shook and finally he ripped it open with his teeth. He rolled the condom on one handed as he unbuttoned Wren's jeans and she helped him pull them down. 

Before Wren could look up, Mike had slammed himself into her, no waiting, just raw, dirty sex. Wren moaned in ecstasy, starting to meet each if Michael's thrusts with her own. He filled every inch of her, and then some. Wren managed to open her eyes, her fingers clenched in his short brown hair, muttering dirty things under her breath. Michael's eyes were closed, but he moved closer, his lips moving on Wren's ear.  
"I can't hear you... I want you to scream. Now!" He quickened his pace, holding Wren up, her back hitting the wall behind her over and over again. Probably leaving some nasty bruises but...  
"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck me! C'mon, you can do better! I've seen the breaststroke, where's the rest? Jesus Christ! Mike! Fuck! Fuck... Fuck you! Ah, dammit, Mike, you can do better! I don't want to walk straight tomorrow. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck me!" Mike knew how to take orders, Wren felt her back hitting the wall, the rhythmic thumping, but the pain was out weighted by the smooth feel of Michael's thick, long dick buried inside her, pounding into her body. Sweat poured off both of them and suddenly Micheal stiffened, his body shudders and he gave 3 long thrusts before coming with a wail. 

He leaned his forehead against Wren's, pushed his lips forward to kiss her as he pulled out. Wren dejectedly pulled her pants back up. Michael helped her off the toilet and then flushed the used condom. He must have seen the look of disappointment on he face because he took her hand.  
"I can't just leave you like this. I have a hotel room..." Wren gave a quick nod and waved briskly to her friends as they rushed out the club doors.


	2. Chapter 2

It started in the elevator. 

As soon as the doors slid closed in the lobby, Mike wrapped his hand around Wren's waist, pulled her closer to him, and found enough room in her tight jeans for his giant hand. As soon as his finger slipped into her hot slit, Wren almost fell down. He grabbed her back to support her and when she winced, Mike cradled her back tenderly-he knew what he'd done-and pushed his tongue down her throat again. And the time the doors opened on the right floor not even 10 seconds later, Mike's hand was slick and Wren was panting like she'd run a marathon. They paused to allow Mike to swipe the key card, but immediately locked the door and fell on the bed. Clothes flew everywhere. First off: Wren 's leather bomber jacket, followed by the blue shirt underneath, and the tight black jeans. Mike paused for a moment admiring the young, supple body in his bed, before Wren growled and took 2 of his fingers into her mouth. His clothes basically evaporated. 

He roughly turned Wren around, she was on fours, panting like a bitch, her head looked over one shoulder as Michael produced yet another condom from his pocket. As soon as it was on, he was inside. Mike groaned as he pushed into the tight heat of Wren, who was softly moaning. Michael increased his speed, after coming just a few minutes earlier, he knew his swimmer stamina would kick in. Wren lowered herself onto her elbows, tattooed back arched and pushing back with everything she had, the soft stream of 'oh. oh. oh' dripping out of her mouth irritated Mike. He dropped onto her, his mouth near her ear again.   
"Fucking scream, bitch." The pace increased and the thrusts were harder. Wren's entire body was shaking and now she was wailing with every movement.   
"Oooooooh, fuck! Jesus! Michael! Michael! Fuck! FUCK!" Michael slowed for a second, to flip Wren over. 

Her flushed face and bouncing chest were perfectly erotic, Michael panted and pushed them both further onto the bed. The hotel bed springs gave a squeak, then settled as Michael continued to push into Wren. Her back arched up and Mike's lips crashed into hers, the metal taste in her mouth scared her while it only seemed to prompt Michael to push harder. He lifted her long legs higher and higher, until she was almost doubled and crying. With a sudden, surprisingly smooth, motion, he flipped Wren again, he lay on his back, his long fingers digging into Wren already bruised back and she cried out again. Rolling her hips, she slowed the pace, her battered body still yearning for pleasure. Michael tighter his hold on her hips and forced her to speed up , his brown eyes hard and lustful. Wren felt a coil forming in her stomach and she moaned as she tightened around Michael, her body spasmed and she collapsed onto Mike, their sweaty body overheating. Michael gave one last push into Wren and came with a low moan and shudder. Their chests heaved against each other and Michael recuperated enough to roll Wren off him, he removed the condom and threw it in the general direction of the trashcan. Wren groaned and rolled off the bed to go to the bathroom, Mike fell asleep before she came back.

Michael kept his eyes closed. He was awake but he was checking to see if the girl was up yet. The bed creaked as someone got up and their light footsteps lead them to the bathroom. She was still here. The toilet flushed and the soft steps moved around the room randomly. He furrowed his brow-then relaxed it quickly. If she was awake, he'd hate for her to know he was too. Girls always wanted breakfast and cuddling. No way. He was Michael fucking Phelps, he didn't date chicks, he had fun. A lesson Ryan had beat into him with his own wild lifestyle.

He sighed internally. How was he gonna do it? She seemed like a sweet girl, and pretty attractive. But he couldn't be tied down. She had to leave, he'd pay her cab, ecetera, ecetera, exit. He could hear her, the ruffle of paper and the sound of a pen scratching. Once Michael had satisfied himself finding the best way to tell this chick to get the hell out of his hotel room, and was about to begin his I-swear-I-just-woke-up stretch. A creak came from a corner of the room. His eyes fell open and settled on the startled girl at the door. 

She was carrying her jacket and bag in her hands, hair unruly, shirt wrinkled. Her deep brown eyes darted from side to side and before Mike could open his mouth, words tumbled out of her.   
"Oh, hey, morning... This was great and whatever, but I have class to get to. And I need a shower. So I was just gonna run out. I didn't make any food or take anything out of the minifrige so... I did leave you $20 because you got me a drink last night... But anyways, I have to go, so, bye!" And with that, she sped out the door and slammed it behind her. Michael dropped back on the bed, then got up for the bathroom. On the way over, he passed the dresser were a slip of paper and $20 lay. He smirked. Of course she left her number. He prepared to throw the note out, but out of curiosity, read it.   
'Mike. Great time last night. Prefer we never meet again? Cool with me. -W' Michael froze with shock. A girl never wanted to see him again?! He was the best! This was an insult to everything he'd worked for. He was gonna track her down and-shit. She didn't leave a number, or her full name! He cursed under his breath. Maybe Ryan knew her name.


	3. Chapter 3

Ryan calmly watched his best friend pace in his hotel room. 

He was talking a mile a minute about a girl with no name who didn't leave her number? Ryan wasn't really listening, he was still slightly hungover. Suddenly Michael stopped in front of him. 

"Ryan! Are you even listening?!" Ryan yawned.   
"Jeah... Wait, what?" Michael sighed and slumped to the floor, his tall, swimmers physique looked mutated as it crumpled.   
"Ryan, this is serious. A chick blew me off." Ryan grinned.   
"That's a good thing, Mikey." Mike shot him a look.   
"That's not what I mean. I mean she ditched me this morning. She left me $20 for her drink from last night and ran out of my room, talking about classes or some shit." Ryan's sleepy brain finally put it together. 

"Oh! You mean that black girl? Cullen, Matt and I were talking to her friends! Maybe we know her number?" Michael gave him an intense look. 

"What are you waiting for?! Hurry up!" Ryan rolled his eyes and dig his iPhone out of his pocket, sending quick texts to Cullen and Matt. A few seconds later, Cullen texts back: The girl I was talking to said they were from Columbia U. Text Matt. He went home with the other chick. Michael jumped up. 

"Yes! Do you know what this means?" Ryan gave him a blank look.   
"Everyone except me hooked up last night?" Mike rolled his eyes.   
"No, jackass, it means someone knows her name! Call Matt!" Ryan consented, muttering something about how Mike had his own phone, and was about to call Matt when his phone rang. 

"Matt, dude, I was just about to-" Matt's deep voice cut him off.   
"Her name is Wren Kassy. She has classes at Columbia. Pre-med. You can find her at the school track at 5." Ryan sputtered.   
"And how the hell do you know this?" A pause, then a girlish giggle, and Matt sighed.   
"Her best friend is in my room." Another giggle. "Gotta go, bye." Matt hung up. Ryan shook his head. Poor guy had to be nice to every girl he slept with, always needed some more when he woke up. Mike was waiting for his information with wide eyes. Ryan laughed. 

"Dude. Stop making that face, you look like a retarded fish. Which you are, so I guess it's cool..." Mike jumped, his fist up to Ryan's face on an instant.   
"Just fucking tell me." Ryan rolled his eyes.   
"Calm your tits, bro. We can see her at the Columbia U track at 5, jeah?" Mike relaxed and pulled back. "How about we go find some girls until then?" The fist came back quickly and connected with Ryan jaw. 

Wren tried to focus her bleary eyes on the professor, but just succeeded in yawning. She was barely perched in the edge of her seat, her body so sore she couldn't find a comfortable way to rest. Micheal fucking Phelps. That kid's idiot demeanor and goofy smile hid a wild, rough beast. Wren yawned again. Nicole elbowed her.  
"Dude. Stop. The prof is glaring at you." Wren glared at one of her best friends.  
"Ow. Plus it's not my fault." Nicole returned the glare with her full intensity.  
"Yes, yes it is. And I'm not upset because you had sex last night because, wow. Fish boy. You go girlfriend, and all, but I'm upset because I didn't have sex last night." Wren curved her lips into a wicked smile.  
"How many times do I have to tell you, Nic, you are a strong, independent black woman who don't-"  
"-Need no man. Yeah. I get it. But I do need to get laid every so often." They giggled and Wren shifted again in her seat.  
"So, I take it Laur got her man?" Nicole rolled her eyes.  
"When does Lauren ever not get her man? God, boys are suckers for sweetheart hippies." Wren suppressed her laugh, 1. Because it was class and 2. It fucking hurt.  
"So, which one?" Nicole sighed.  
"Fucking Matt Grevers. He was finished from the moment she saw him. She still in his goddamn room, skipping Engineering 101 to fuck an Olympian. That bitch." Wren smirked.  
"Like you won't still be up in Mr. Jones hotel room if he let you in. Hypocrite." Nicole purposefully jabbed her in the ribs.  
"Hey fuck you. Why aren't you up in Mr. Fantastic's room?" Wren paused and their professors voice rang out.  
"Ladies, is there something more important that finishing your education?" Nicole muttered 'Fuck yes, getting laid.' under her breath but they both smiled and sunk silently into their seats.


	4. Chapter 4

It's 4:57 at the Columbia U track.

Wren feels sick and sore but she knows she can't miss track practice. The sound of her spikes on the red rubber track is too hard to resist and after she changes, she stretches-very carefully-in the field. Nicole jogs over to her and pulls her long, black hair into a ponytail with a grin.  
"Laur is here, and she looks ten times worse than you do." Wren sticks her tongue out.  
"Doubt it." But then Lauren jogs out of the change rooms towards them, then brightens suddenly. She waves frantically and Wren and Nicole wave back, then Lauren stars pointing with a wide smile. Nicole stops waving and half frowns.  
"Why do I feel like we should lower our expectations, then turn around?" There's a boyish chuckle and Cullen's large hands come down on Nicole's shoulders, then Ryan steps around them and grins.  
"Don't you mean we surpass all your expectation?" Nicole shrugs.  
"I've already lowered them, so..." Lauren reaches them and attches herself to Matt's side with a kiss. Michael stands sheepishly in the back and Ryan nudges Wren's shoukder.  
"You ditched my man last night, so he traced you down.Isn't that roantic?" Wren raises an eyebrow.  
"Not really. Especially after I said I didn't want anything. It's kinda creepy. And you can't be here during practice." Ryan give Wren a shiteating grin.  
"You know, for a track trainer, your coach loves her some swimmers." Lauren squeals with joy and pulls Matt closer.  
"You're staying?" Matt grins.  
"I guess so." Cullen and Nicole smile at each other, and Rya pushes Wren towards Mike.  
"Okay, so go on..." Wren glares.  
"Do what?" Ryan throws his hands up.  
"God damn, you are useless. Let's just go and see how fast she could have left Mikey's room that night." Wren sneers as Ryan walks away, followed by a well-wishing Cullen and kiss-covered Matt. Michael is the last to turn away with a backwards glance at Wren as she finishes her warm-up stretches.

Ryan snags a prime spot in the stands and settles in to glare at Mike.  
"Mike! She's hot and all, but she's a frigid bitch!" Michael shakes his head.  
"No. You just irritate people." Ryan punches him in the arm.  
"Dick." Cullen smirks and Matt grins.  
"Yo, Ryan is just pissed he didn't hook-up last night." Mike laughs and Ryan glares darkly.  
"Cullen didn't hook-up either!" Cullen shrugs.  
"I chose not to. And you sound like a 5 year old." They laugh in the stands as the girls finish their stretches and jog over to their coach with the rest of the team. Wren and Lauren head in one direction, and Nicole heads to the other side of the field. Ryan watches for 10 seconds, until they reach their opposite ends of the track, then blurts:  
"What's happening?" Matt doesn't take his eyes off Lauren.  
"They have to seperate for practice. Lauren and Wren are sprinters. Nicole is a long distance runner. It's kind of like swimming." Ryan nods for a minute, then shakes Cullen's shoulder, disturbing his game of 4 Pics, 1 Word.  
"Cullen, check out that chicks rack! Do you think she can acyually run with those?" Cullen squints at the girl Ryan is vulgarly pointing at then roll his eye.  
"Dude, that's Nicole. She just took her warm-up jersey off." Ryan almost salivates.  
"You passed that up? Dude... The things I would do..." Mike smirks.  
"No one needs to know what you'd do because you haven't got a chance." Cullen and Matt laugh while Ryan pouts. He's about to respond when a shot goes off and Nicole starts running with a group of girls. Cullen perks up and watches her.  
"She's leading the pack." Ryan scoffs.  
"Thanks for the update, tips. I don't have working eyes." Mike rolls his eyes as he watches Wren linger near the starting line. Lauren is getting into position on the blocks and testing her posture. The trainer yells something and a minute later, the gun goes off again and the line of girls sprint down the track in  few seconds. They finish where they started and Ryan gapes.  
"What just happened?" Matt shrugs.  
"Laur is a 400m sprinter." Mike carefully watched Wren prepare herself at the line.  
"What about Wren?" Matt thinks for a minute.  
"Um. 100m and 200m. I think. Just watch, jesus, you dragged us all out here." Mike lets his friends grumble as Wren does some final stretches at the line and he pulls out his iPhone. He sets it to timer just as Wren is setting herself on her blocks and when the shot goes off, he hits go. She's finished in seconds, and when Mike checks how many, he whistles. Ryan throws himself over one of his shoulder.  
"Dude, what? Was it her boobs bouncing, because, god damn..." Mike holds up his phone.  
"How fast was the 100m women race in London?" Everyone is silet until Cullen inhales.  
"Uh... Almost 11 seconds? I'm googling..." There's a pause. "Oh, 10.75 seconds." Mike holds his phone up.

11.01 seconds. 

Wren jogs back to the line and tries to keep her breahing even-make it look like she didn't try-not that she was trying to impress anyone though. Lauren pats her on the back with a smile.  
"Great job, Wren! 10.99 seconds!" Wren heaves and gasps for breath.  
"Really?" Nicole comes over with a smirk.  
"Loverboy looks impressed." Wren turns to find Michael "Fish" Phelps gaping at her, his iPhone in hand and his friends looking impressed. Lauren waves eagerly at Matt.  
"I hope you guys don't mind but I told Matt we'd go out with them." Nicole and Wren half groan.


	5. Chapter 5

Lauren playfully punches Matt in the arm.

"What do you mean you didn't time me? Am I not important." Matt grins.  
"No. You're not." The other boys roll their eyes, they know Matt has times and pictures and videos of her running. Nicole has snuggled up to Cullen, who is more comfortable and inviting when he's not drunk, and Wren sits awkwardly between Ryan and Mike. Ryan has his arm thrown over her shoulder and Mike is mockingly ordering her Sprite while what seems like every very unsubtle girl in the bar, "subtly" tries to take a photo of the swimmer stuffed booth. Wren glares at the one girl who doesn't even turn her flash off. Ryan laughs.  
"Get used to it, especially if you hang out with this idiot." Mike glares over her head but Wren shrugs.  
"What makes you think I'm gonna hang out with this idiot after this?" Ryan leers at her.  
"Does this mean you're free this weekend?" Mike hits him in the back of the head.  
"Ryan, lay off. She doesn't have to do anything." He looks at Wren. "I know it's weird I stalked you. But I would like to hang out with you." Wren narrow her eyes.  
"You're right. It was stalking. And you don't really know me, we hooked up once. So I have no obligation to be here right now." She stands abruptly and Lauren and Nicole hesitantly pull away from their respective boys. Wren shakes her head. "No guys, stay. Have fun. I've got a lot of notes to go over anyways. Later." The girls happily settle back into the arms of their lovers, but 15 minutes after Wren leaves, they start to squirm guiltily. Nicole sighs.  
"We should't have let her go alone." Lauren nods.  
"Yeah. Sorry, Matt, we have to go." Mike watches Ryan try to pick up and busty blonde, then sets his beer down.  
"No, you guys chill. What dorm is she in?" After a shared look of concern, Nicole and Lauren sigh. Nicole grabs a napkin and scribbles it down, before handing it to him.  
"You be good to my baby."

Mike feels odd lurking in front of her building. Now that he's here, he feels like this is the worst thing he could have done-she didn't like him stalking her to track practice, now he's at her house. He barely resists the urge to slap himself and buzzes her through the intercom. There's a crackle of static then...  
"Hello?" Mike opens his mouth but can't say anything. "Hell-o?" Wren harrumphs and ends the intercom call. Mike curses himself and tries again.  
"Hello? Wren?" She sighs.  
"Fish boy. Why are you here?" Mike rests his head on the brick.  
"I want to talk." He can hear the smirk in her voice when she replies.  
"I want sex was the right answer, but..." The door alarm screeches. "Come up." Mike smiles and heads through the door. Wren doesn't live in a fraternity, but it's not a 50 story dorm building either. It's a comfortable 4 story structure with clean carpets and politely smiling girls studying in the front library. Mike smiles back for a second, then heads to the third floor. He waits outside her door for 2 minutes before he knocks, then there's a muffles crash and swear.  
"Just a second!" Something moving, then the door opens. Wren's already changed into sweats and a t-shirt, her gym bag in the farthest corner and Mike half ducks to make it in the door. Wren room is neat and clean, except for paper littered all over the floor. Wren follows his eyes then runs her hand through her messy hair.  
"Yeah. You startled me." She begins to pick them up and sort through them, placing the finished pile back on her desk. Mike sits on her bed-queen sized-and she settles into her desk chair.  
"So..." Mike smooths a wrinkle in the sheets.  
"This is a nice room, dorm." Wren smiles.  
"Yeah. It's for honor scholarship students." Mike nods.  
"I... Wasn't that smart. What are you studying?" Wren smirks  
"Pre-med." Mike is impressed but Wren laughs. "Everyone is pre-med, it just science classes!" Mike nods.  
"Yeah. So... You said the right answer was sex?" Wren shuts the blinds over her desk.  
"About time, fishboy."

Michael is already hard by the time Wren pulls her shirt over her head, her sweats low on her hips and her athletic body on display. He does notice his own teeth marks on her shoulder, and when he reaches for her and turns her around, he finds more and bruises. He gasps.  
"Oh my god. Did I-" Wren pushes him back on to the bed.  
"You did. But I'm a big girl. I can handle it." She traces over his pectoral with her finger and Mike willingly pulls his shirt off. They kiss, and it's wet and Wren moans and Michael wants to be gentle, but his pants are gone and he slips her sweats and underwear down her legs. And when her knees are bunched around his hips and she's crying through her orgasms 20 minutes later with fresh bruises and bite marks does he remember his wishes. He slows and her nails dig into his back as she hisses.  
"What are you doing?" Mike tries not to shudder from the pleasant sensation of scratches on his back.  
"I didn't want to hurt you." Wren growls and Mike finds himself flipped onto his back. Wren smirks as he hold her hips.  
"You're not the only athlete in this bed, Michael." She leans low enough that her chest rubs against him as she rocks and rides his cock, her pace slowly increasing until her eyes are closed and her mouth is open, Mike's large hands dragging her up and down. Michael can taste his climax, but it edges just out of his reach as Wren rides him, and even her nails in his biceps aren't pulling him closer to the edge. He keeps himself buried in her as he flips them, and Wren is on her knees, screaming into the mattress as Mike thrusts closer to his release. He collapses onto her body when she's come, and she squirms out from under him to pull her shirt over her naked sweaty body. Mike relaxes and enjoys the sight of her stretching, until she throws his shirt at his head.  
"Thanks fishboy. But I have to finish studying."


End file.
